Nothing More, Nothing Less
by SeverinadeStrango
Summary: Undertaker has been busier than usual lately in his little funeral parlor. He has the "supply". Who creates the demand? None other than the most infamous "Madame Guillotine". Dare he try and meet "her"? Let's find out. Rated "T" for lots of blood and death.
1. Chapter 1

Nothing More, Nothing Less

A Kuroshitsuji fanfiction

By: SeverinadeStrango

Summary: Undertaker has been busier than usual lately. He has the supply. Who creates the demand? None other than the most infamous "Madame Guillotine". Dare he try and meet her? Let's find out.

Disclaimer: I don't own Kuroshitsuji, the Undertaker, or any of the characters. I only own the plot and Executioner 0022 (my OC, who is and will never be in the right state of mind).

Author's Note: This was an interesting story I randomly decided to write. I just got into Kuroshitsuji and I also have been interested in the guillotine for a while know. So why not combine the two together? Just to let you know, for now, this is NOT an Undertaker/OC fanfiction. However, if you read it and think I should turn it into one, please review and let me know. So enjoy!

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Chapter One:

Lately, Undertaker had been having more fun than usual in his little funeral parlor. Before, he often got bodies that had a peaceful look on the face, and the hands clasped at the chest. No wounds, no torn off flesh. The most gruesome it would get was maybe some blood around the mouth. Overall, very peaceful deaths.

That didn't please him much.

It was just so _boring, _to see all these "old age" deaths, or ones that had died "peacefully, in sleep".

However, lately he had been getting a new form of death to prepare for those hand-made coffins he loved so much.

Beheading.

Yes, almost each and every time these days the bodies were of filthy, tattered men and women, their necks severed perfectly through, a last expression of terror on their faces. Undertaker would have to sew the heads back onto the necks for the funeral, which was rather tiresome, but he had been fascinated by this new "trend" in death.

Sliding the head back, Undertaker looked at the neck of the body he was currently working on. You could see each vein, each muscle, each bone. Sliced perfectly through. Nothing was torn or fractured. There wasn't even any spilled blood. It was….

_"…beautiful..."_ He breathed, marveling at the flawless job done by the killer. No one could have done this by _accident, _or to _themselves…_

For the first time, he looked at the tag on the corpse's foot, the tag that stated the name of the deceased, the age, the date, and the cause of death. It was pretty obvious how the victim had died…..but by what…

Holding the tag with his talon-like nails, Undertaker squinted, trying hard to read the cause of death, but at a major disadvantage due to his nearsightedness. On top of that, the handwriting on the tag was awful and obviously done very sloppily. He pulled the coffin closer to a light, making it a lot easier to see. The shop, like always, was very dim.

There! He could make it out now….

"….cause of death: _Appointment with 'Madame Guillotine'…_huh." He had, no doubt, heard of the Guillotine before. From what he could remember, it was a beheading machine designed to be quick and painless….but this perfect?!

_Can't believe it unless I see it, _Undertaker thought, getting up from his place on one of the coffins and heading to the door. There were executions outside of the prison almost every day.

"Ahihihihihihihi…let's go see Madame Guillotine….."

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**So how'd you like this one? It's my first fanfiction for Kuroshitsuji, I hope I did everything okay. Chapter Two will be up soon, hopefully.**

**Please let me know how you like it! If you review, I may update sooner...! Ahehehehe...**

**- Severina**


	2. Chapter 2

**Hi! I'm back with chapter two! Thanks for any reviews you gave me. They really make my day ;) **

**Hope you like this chapter!**

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**Chapter Two:**

Outside the prison, where the executions usually took place, Undertaker stood anxiously at the back of the crowd that had gathered, anticipating what was to come. He could see a large wooden platform up ahead. It was old, rickety, and about ten to twelve feet above the ground. The stairs leading up to the platform were steep and just as unstable-looking. And on that stage….

…was the Guillotine.

Having never actually _seen _one of these deadly contraptions before, Undertaker was filled with a sense of awe. The guillotine was around eleven feet tall and very narrow. It had a hole in which the victim's head would be put through and two tall, straight, wooden posts that would guide the guillotine's slanted blade as it _fell_, ending the life of whoever was unfortunate enough to be placed in it. What a way to go.

To the silver-haired mortician, "Madame Guillotine" had such a fear-inspiring image he almost skipped over the person standing right next to it.

It was a woman, and a strikingly scary one at that.

She was tall, about five feet and eleven inches, and unnaturally skinny. Not the pretty, sleek type of skinny. No, she was beyond that. _Corpse-like _was a better description. Even from where Undertaker stood, at the back of the crowd, he could see the outline of her sharp-angled skull right through her face. Her ribs were easily countable through the body-hugging black dress she was wearing. Not that there was much to show off.

He couldn't see her hair because of the hood she wore, but judging from the shade of her uneven eyebrows, it was probably black. There was a scar running straight through her left eye and down her face, as if a jagged blade had passed directly through her. It had been stitched up roughly. _So…this executioner…was THIS Madame Guillotine?_

The Undertaker's train of thoughts were abruptly cut off by a loud, growing roar from the crowd. Looking up, he saw a cart full of prisoners being driven in, each one of them screaming, crying, begging for mercy. Reduced to a pitiful mess. So _these _were the ones that would end up in his little funeral parlor, most likely within the next hour or two.

As he watched eagerly, the first prisoner was led up. He was a large man, wearing nothing but a pile of filthy rags. Dirt smeared his entire body, tears streaked his face. He was not fighting or resisting anymore, and had seemed to have accepted his fate.

Several men, probably guards or wardens of some sort strapped the condemned man into the guillotine, inserting his head in the hold. There was a basket underneath his head, prepared to catch the gruesome load once "Madame Guillotine" had done her work.

_And speaking of Madame Guillotine…_

The woman started pulling the rope, the guillotine's blade rising higher and higher and higher…

Then, as if in slow motion, she let go.

_SLICE! _ Then a muffled thud. Undertaker stared in shock.

The blade had fallen with what seemed like supersonic speed compared to what he was expecting, swiftly and quickly delivering what it was meant to do. Nothing more, nothing less. This was pure, simple, perfection.

Digging her hand in the basket, the executioner pulled the head out and held it high above her head. Any blood that was left dripped out of the severed neck and spattered all over her skirt. She gave a roaring cheer, which was quickly taken up by the enthusiastic crowd. Her large, tilted grey eyes slanted even more, a triumphant grin growing on her face. The party was just getting started.

The next prisoner was then led up.

_SLICE!_

And the next. This one was a blonde woman. No difference to "Madame Guillotine."

_SLICE! _

This would go on forever.

_SLICE!_

Just _how many prisoners were there?_

_SLICE!_

She even executed children…..

_SLICE! _ Even Undertaker winced a little at that one.

_SLICE!_

_ SLICE!_

_ SLICE!_

The cheering seemed to last for an eternity. The blood and screams were endless.

And then it was over.

"Ahihihihi…that was amusing…" Undertaker muttered quietly to himself, mentally applauding the executioner for a "job well done." The crowd slowly began to disperse, making it a lot easier for him to move around. Now that the area was clearing out, he was able to see the platform much more clearly. He walked up to the Guillotine slowly, never once moving his gaze from the giant blade, which was now resting in the hole where the victim's head was usually placed.

"You like it." The voice that spoke sounded like a pile of dead leaves being trampled and whirled around.

Interrupted from his thoughts once again, Undertaker looked up to find the source of the voice. His eyes eventually found the Executioner, who was sitting cross-legged on the platform, one hand on the side of her death device. She tilted her head slightly to the left, as if waiting for a response.

"….yes…..I do like it….." He breathed, forgetting all means of composure (if he had any to begin with) and almost at a complete loss for what to say. _If you have questions, ask them now. _"Madame…..Guillotine?" He asked, looking up at her expectantly. However, it seemed that was the wrong thing to say. Her brow arched and her eyes became even more slanted.

"No." She thumped herself on her chest, as if referring to herself. "Executioner #0022. Guillotine operator. Deliver _perfection."_ She seemed to take great pride in this. "Perfection. Nothing more, nothing less. This…" She patted the guillotine, "…..Madame Guillotine." Undertaker stayed silent for a minute, letting this all sink in. _Right now, she is a goddess….of perfection….._

"Well…..Executioner…my humble self is pleased….yes, _very _pleased to meet you." He gave a small bow to her, out of respect. "I have been most fascinated with your work as of late…..would you like to see the results of your efforts, right down at my little shop..?"

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**Well, now you all have met my OC, Executioner. She's not very sociable :)**

**Thanks for reading and please review! I am writing chapter three right now!**

**- Severina **


	3. Chapter 3

**Chapter Three:**

As the mortician escorted the Executioner down the stone walkway and into his "oh-so-humble" funeral parlor, he had never felt more nervous in his life. _Here she is…..the one who made that perfect slice…..the one who delivers this…._ However, judging by the marks, scars, and burns he could see on her face, hands, and neck, she had sacrificed much to get to this point.

Passing through the doorway of the Undertaker's shop, the Executioner slowly took the atmosphere in. It wasn't very big. The only light she could see came from a lantern hanging on the far left side of the shop. There were coffins, here, there, everywhere…. She laughed, an eerie sound which echoed off the walls and floor. They were all _here._ Every one of them.

Without even waiting for an invitation, she walked over and pushed off the lid of one of the fancier-looking coffins, becoming absolutely delighted with what was inside.

The corpse was that of a woman's, and a very beautiful one at that. The long blond hair had been made stunning and silkyonce again. The skin was flawless and pale. Her hands were clasped at her bosom, each one of the nails filed and painted beautifully. The mangled, prison-tattered, fallen aristocrat that she had executed last week….had been made lovely once again by Undertaker.

She placed one long, bony finger on the corpse's neck, tracing the red stitching holding the head onto the neck. Undertaker had made the threads thick and that exact color of red, blood red. It was the mark of one felled by Madame Guillotine.

"So….do you like it?" Undertaker's heart was beating. It would mean the _world, _no, the _universe, _if she said yes….

The executioner walked up to him, standing so close their noses were almost touching. If she had been rigid before at the executions, she certainly wasn't now….

"You gave them a look to die for." The way she said it, Undertaker could tell she had not meant to flatter or compliment him. She was simply stating the truth. Or what was the truth in her mind. Nothing more, nothing less. And that was good enough for him.

She began to examine him now, looking close at his face and squinting hard, as if trying to get every detail. Using her hands, she began to comb through his long, silver hair, gently tugging on it and stroking it. She picked up one of his hands and studied the long, black nails and the slender, graceful fingers. A weird smile carved itself roughly on her face and her brow arched playfully, as if to say _I'm satisfied. _Undertaker mentally breathed out a sigh of relief. He felt so nervous when she was that close to him…..and touching him, _scrutinizing _him like that. It seemed like if she found even the _slightest _flaw with him he would be obliterated before he could count to two. It was a miracle she hadn't decided to lift up his bangs. That would be unexplainable.

Looking out the window, he saw it was already dark outside. Oh dear. _Did time really pass by that fast?_ He would have to take the Executioner back to the prison, where she lived and worked almost every day. Or she could stay at the Funeral Parlor…he would have to ask.

"Executioner…?" No response.

He looked up quickly, twisting his head left and right. She was nowhere to be seen.

_Nothing to panic about, _he told himself, _she probably just wandered into the back room. _

The Executioner seemed so careless sometimes for a perfectionist…..

Undertaker pulled open the door to the back room, which was where he lived and slept for the most part.

"Executioner? Are you there? Would you like to stay….."

Just then, however, he found her. Passed out on top of his bed in a heap of black satin.

_Well, I guess that answers that question. _

Meeting this Guillotiner might have been a very big mistake…

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**So...chapter three is up, chapter four will be soon. How do you like it so far? I need to know!**

**Reviews are always appreciated :)**

**- Severina**


	4. Chapter 4

**Chapter Four:**

Undertaker had watched her for a while before he left. Who couldn't? She had looked so strangely innocent, and yet she was an executioner. She was _the _executioner. It was _insane _how…..

_Insane._ That was the only reasonable explanation.

Shuffling backwards out of the dark room, the mortician wandered over to the small bookshelf he kept in his funeral parlor. He kept about eight books there, the rest of the space occupied by hearts in jars and clusters of eyeballs soaking in preservative fluids. With a wide grin, he pulled the one closest to the right out and dusted it off. These were cinematic records, these books. _They have to be treated with care….._

Opening the cover, he began to observe the unfortunate soul's life. _First, their name. _Written on the very first page in long narrow lettering….

Heidi von Toten.

Undertaker smiled. He had not read this one before. It would be lots of fun.

He began to leaf through the pages, just enough to get a vague outline of the person's life. Every now and then, small details would catch his eye.

…_.German origin…caught_

…_died…then…._

…_..to torture prisoners…_

…_..hated the mess….sister Ilsa_

…_.Ilsa…..killed….blinded…_

…_promotion….operator_

_Guillotine._

_Wait, WHAT? _Undertaker flipped the pages forward as fast as he could, skipping to the last page and reading it in detail.

"….._let the blade fall. The bodies are cleaned up and taken away. The mortician who takes in the bodies approaches." _

His mouth curved downwards in disbelief. If this was the Cinematic Record of who he thought it was, then two things were certain. One, he now knew the Executioner better than she knew herself. This made him laugh.

And two, she would soon die.

Putting the book back on the shelf, Undertaker went back to work on one of the lovely beheaded bodies with mixed feelings. Usually, he would be amused to see how one would meet their final destiny.

_But then….there would be no more of these lovely headless_ _bodies_…._would__ there? _He threaded a large needle with thick, red thread and began sewing the head to the body. It would be lonely and strange, going back to all those boring deaths. _One can't change fate though….._

Dropping the corpse back down gently, he walked over to the other side of the room and began measuring wood for a new coffin. It would be the finest one he had ever made.

"Black paint…." He muttered to himself, "White outlines. Glossy finish. Simple perfection. I shall give what is desired….nothing more, nothing less."

Dropping the piece of wood he was holding, Undertaker rested for a moment before getting back to work. He would need to finish this quickly.

Chances are, It would be needed soon.

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**Short chapter this time...I have chapter five ready and will probably post it sometime next week. **

**How do you like it so far? Where do you think it should go next? I must know! **

**Please review, it is always appreciated!**

**- Severina :)**


	5. Chapter 5

**Ok, here's chapter five! I'm trying to post once every week and so far am keeping up with that :D yay!**

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**Chapter Five:**

Raising a hand to his head groggily, Undertaker pulled himself into a sitting position from the coffin he had been lying on.

"I worked hard last night…." he said, standing up and walking around. He had fallen asleep working on that perfect coffin last night in one of the most uncomfortable positions you would ever be able to sleep in. With a dazed smile, he pushed aside the door to the back room.

"Hellooooo….." He pulled aside the blankets on the bed, expecting to find the Executioner.

She wasn't there.

"Ah, she'll be alright." He said cheerily, walking back to the main room. "Probably went back to the prison." And in that case, he needed to get back to work. _Lots of pretty corpses will be coming in today…._ He looked up at the door in anticipation.

And was shocked with what he saw.

Looking out of the small glass area on his door, he could see nothing but smoke and the orangey glows of fire. People were darting past his shop, screaming, running for their lives. There was a filthy, tattered man in the midst of all this. He was holding a torch. Even from where Undertaker was sitting, he could hear the man's words.

"WHERE IS SHE?" The man yelled, swinging the torch around, turning a pile of wood into a blaze. "IMPRISON' NG ME, YOU DID!" He laughed, a big booming noise, and ran out of Undertaker's view, probably to set more things on fire.

"Oh, how wonderful!" He giggled, starting his work back up on the corpse. "Yes, fun…! So many dead bodies…..all mauled by the _fire!_" He got himself quite excited with that statement, and began speeding up his work in anticipation to quickly scoop up the victims of this massacre. Then-

[BANG]. Something crashed against his door. [BANG]. Or it was knocking.

Hmmm.

[BANG!] There it was again. Followed by some crazy screaming, probably in another language. He walked up to the door and peered out the glass. There, plastered to his door, was the Executioner. She looked completely insane. Her face was burned badly and blackened by smoke. She was pounding hard on the door. He could see little cracks form in the glass.

"_Helfen! __Helfen sie mir! BITTE!" _She screamed. Undertaker frowned.

"Ah, well, I suppose I must….." He opened the door, causing her to fall and roll inside the shop. He enjoyed a small laugh at this. "What are you doing back _here, _m'dear?" He said, smiling insanely. She had gotten up from the floor, and was now wringing her hands and pacing the room, speaking frantically in German.

She then screamed, her eyes bulging, and tried to run in a random direction. Undertaker put his hands on her waist and shoved her down on top of a coffin. He didn't want her breaking any of his precious beakers.

"What did they do to you?" He traced the burn on her left cheek, chuckling with amusement. She began to cry, this screeching, wailing noise. It rang in Undertaker's ears.

"They-they BURNED it!" She gasped, clenching her long-nailed hands into fists. "My hard work….all of it! Gone! _Poof! _Burned it….._der fallbeil…..MY _guillotine!" She laughed crazily through her tears. "And now….now….they're coming to take me….they are….'burn madame guillotine', they said…..well they did…..but it wasn't enough…was it?" She looked questioningly up at Undertaker. Tears were streaming down her dirty face. He ran his nails through her long hair, an unsuccessful attempt to untangle that rat's nest on her head.

"It wasn't enough…..because they didn't burn Madame Guillotine….yet." He said, smiling down at her. She had a confused look on her face.

"Yes they _did…._And when I get _mein hande _on them….I'll kill them all! Yes, I will!" She flapped her hands to show how big "all" was. "Rip their guts out….smash their heads on the ground with a mallet….and make them _lick_ up the mess!" Laughing madly, the sound echoing off the walls and the glass beakers, she fell backwards, sliding off the coffin and landing on the ground with a _thud._

"I won't clean up the mess…. it….not perfect…." Undertaker placed a hand over her mouth, silencing the crazy woman.

"Quiet down…..or they'll find you….hehehe…." He said, not exactly understanding what was going on. She nodded, and then slowly stood back up. Her tears stung her face where the flesh had been burned away.

"It's so scary…." She whimpered, drawing her hands up to cover her face, "I was always so perfect…..nothing could happen to me, no-no, it couldn't…but look at me now….running and hiding….tell me. Will I be like this forever?"

"Of course not….when you die, you will be returned to your rightful self, I can assure you that. But for now….let's have you stay like this a little while longer." He steered her over to a coffin in the far corner, away from the door so she could not see the smoke and ashes, remains of all her work. "Now…stay quiet….so that you may live…for now."

She nodded.

"Excellent."

Undertaker retreated into the back room, a nonchalant smile on his face. Was this how it was going to end for her…? Would she go completely mad…?

"I'm going to lose so much sleep over this…." Undertaker giggled to himself. It was fun, all good fun to play the guessing game. Because one never knows how it might turn out.

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Translations:

_Helfen sie mir- _Help me

_Bitte- _Please

_Mein Hande- _My hands

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**Yeah, it's a bit of a fast-paced chapter...**

**Chapter Six will be coming next week! **

**Until the next chapter,**

**- Severina :)**


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